


Passing Moments, Stubborn Honor

by 10MileSoul



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alexsandr Kallus Has Issues, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, Dreams, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Memories, Pining, Post-Battle of Endor (Star Wars), Post-Break Up, dont worry they get back together eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28415217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10MileSoul/pseuds/10MileSoul
Summary: Zeb and Kallus reflect on the memories of their relationship, coming to terms with what went wrong, but also how to possibly make things right.The only thing standing in-between is themselves and time.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 40
Kudos: 59





	1. Foreground

Zeb's claws tapped impatiently on the smooth surface of the table. Kallus sat across from him in the lounge of the _Ghost,_ the two playing Dejarik before emerging from hyperspace. "Any day now," Zeb heckled, waiting for Kallus to take his turn.

"Just a moment..." Kallus assured, arching an eyebrow in contemplation. He hesitantly played a move.

As if already anticipating it, Zeb's hasty fingers jumped to the controls. The holographic character flickered into motion, and in one swift move attacked two of Kallus’ pieces, cornering the last one. Kallus abandoned his reserved gaze and absentmindedly rubbed his hands against his cheek. He wasn't able to discern if he was more annoyed from having lost for the third game in a row or aroused by the adeptness of his partner.

He decided on the former. "This game’s ridiculous anyway," he argued, choleric.

"Right," Zeb teased. "I jus' think someone doesn’t know how to lose.”

Kallus flustered, Zeb getting the satisfaction of hearing his voice rise an octave like it did whenever Kallus became defensive. “I’m perfectly capable of losing, it’s just that I’m-“ 

“Stubborn.” 

“Constitutionally incapable of accepting defeat,” he corrected, just then noticing Zeb's toothy grin. Intense amber eyes softened. They wandered up Zeb’s burly arms and the soft bit of chest peeking under his unzipped jumpsuit, burning the image into Kallus' mind. “I'm overreacting, aren't I?" he asserted. "It's only a game-"

Zeb laughed, smitten. He grasped Kallus' gloved hand, squeezed it, and leaned across the table so that their lips just faintly touched.

“I know. That’s what I love about ya,” he whispered.

_This was one of my favorite memories of you._

Zeb's figure faded out into darkness, the surroundings and Dejarik table eroding to rust and a dark and heavy tidal sea. Alexsandr Kallus shot upright from his empty bunk; a scared Rebel grasping at nothing, the ghost of a half-forgotten memory taunting his cold lips.

_And now, memories are all that I have._

**Forest Moon of Endor, 4 ABY**

The rich sound of celebration rang under pale blue sky and the greens of the coniferous forest. The Rebel fleet crowded the dense undergrowth below, hugging, cheering, reveling in victory. _The Death Star II_ had been destroyed, a sharp stab to the Empire accompanying a shift in the tide of the Galactic Civil War.

Garazeb Orrelios squeezed past the joyous crowd, many of them willingly stepping aside, intimidated by his bulky and gruff physique. His chest carried itself with a tired weight as he lazily nodded to those chatting to or hugging him. Within him, a dwindling contentedness resided, to have witnessed the Empire's super-weapon come crashing down with his own beating heart, not only once but twice in his lifetime. To finally take one step closer to leaving the burden of Lansan behind, with closure.

He seized the moment to wearily observe the loud scene around him. At the stinging smell of blaster fire and battle still lingering in the air. At the warm golden sunlight piercing through the trees above. At the atmosphere still raining with burning scrap metal.

At the surrounding Rebels laughing. Talking. _Together._

Zeb envied them, an eternal outsider separated by open wounds and a bird’s eye view. Sure, Zeb was elated by the victory that day, but he had changed. He was different now, careful, reflective. When alone with nothing but his own mind, there was plentiful more time to observe and reflect. To process and reminisce.

_And since we've been apart, I've had nothing but time._

His ear twitched. “Zeb!” a tender voice cut through his pensive. Zeb addressed the source to find Hera approaching him. The two embraced, Zeb bending his knees low so that she could just barely reach him. “I-I still can’t believe we did it,” she breathed.

Zeb tightened his grip around her in reassurance. For a moment, he almost felt okay too. But that stubborn persistent emptiness, a small glimpse of a question, still pierced his feigning chest. Of something yet missing. Zeb brushed it off.

Hera remained tense. “I saw Kallus,” she whispered, her voice dropped low to barely audible. 

Zeb’s body recoiled at the sudden change in conversation. He loosened out of her grip. “That’s uh… that’s good,” he replied flatly. A silence passed between the two, and Zeb felt his chest tighten, shielded by armored stone: a foolish guardsman's instinct to protect that which remained vulnerable. Hera matched with a knowing stare she had infuriatingly mastered the art of. 

“Zeb. I think you should talk to him.”

He lowered his head, fighting her gaze.

“It's never too early to try and make things right. I of all would know," she consoled, and with a gentle pat to his bicep, moved to rejoin the crowd. "Try and enjoy yourself, at least pretend to."

The noise of cheer and celebration faded into distant foreground. Zeb stood planted in the clearing, shifting his gaze between a few rocks below his toes. His heartbeat screamed at him through the cracks. The Rebellion had won that day. Zeb had won.

But this became only a clouded mirage. Zeb's mind dwelled someplace far away, on his home, Kanan, Ezra… _Alexsandr._ Everything that had slipped from his reaching fingers just to get there.

He studied the rocks, and then looked up, treading forward. _Nothing but a stranger, after all this time._

Amidst the celebrating crowd, for a moment, Alexsandr Kallus caught a glimpse of Zeb.

The Lasat was chatting with another soldier— Kallus didn't quite know who she was, nor did he feel bothered enough to look. 

His elbows were leaning against a supply crate, a cup minuscule in his large, clawed hands. He appeared bulkier since the last time that Kallus had seen him. Perhaps he had been working out more. His striped purple fur was scruffy with battle grime, and slightly more shaggy than how he had used to trim it. If Kallus felt entirely honest, he thought that Zeb looked… incredibly, ruggedly, irresistible. More so than he had before, if that was even possible.

Much had changed in the five months that they had split apart. The toll was visible. No longer did Zeb resemble the same confident, stubborn rebel that Kallus had met on that ice moon so long ago. No, his eyes conveyed a different story, their surface just barely veiling resignation and absentness. 

A blaring alarm set off in the depths of Kallus’ head, signaling that perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. That perhaps he wasn’t yet prepared to speak with Zeb again, especially not enough to only be friends.

The ex-Imperial _should_ have been celebrating. He should have been kriffing someone or getting wasted on cheap drinks. The damn _Death Star II_ had been destroyed, Darth Vader and the Emperor were _dead_. The war was not yet over, per se, but it wasn’t implausible to call bets. This was no time to sulk or brood. 

_There. I’m pleased to know that Zeb survived. Now, let’s forget about him and leave._

However, Kallus was stuck in place. Transfixed to the view of Zeb, as if a yarn bound taut around his wrists and feet, cutting deep into blood and bone to hold him back. He couldn’t resist it, some otherworldly will overpowering brute volition and strength, compelling him, no, telling him to stay. To go to Zeb.

In a fit of bravery, he listened.

Brushing uneasy fingers through the hair that fell across his eyes, Kallus began to cut across the forest clearing. He wasn't quite acquainted with impulsive decisions- that remained more of Zeb's domain- but he had to say something, anything.

He couldn’t stand the animosity that had grown between them. He couldn’t stand the silently contentious glances when they were in briefings together. He couldn’t stand how lost and alone Zeb looked, no matter how hard he tried to shield it. He couldn’t stand not having closure. Not at least being acquaintances or even friends. He couldn’t stand how he still longed for Zeb, even after all this time. How the fleeting hookups reduced Kallus to a carved out shell of the reformed man he had once become, never to have that longing completely filled. 

But, as if fate were mocking him, the Lasat twitched his nose and suddenly turned around to face him. Kallus froze halfway through the battle-littered clearing. Rebels passing by between, the two locked eyes with one another from afar. A thousand words silently spoken, each one of them lost in translation.

_Stay._

Green eyes glazed over and distant, Zeb sharply turned his back and walked away. Kallus abandoned his pursuit. No physical distance could alter the space between them. They were nothing but fleeting stars passing by, their light taking too long to reach one another before dying in a brilliant composure of gas and chemical reaction.

Time's unforgiving hands obscuring him, Zeb disappeared into the crowd, alongside Kallus' heart.

He had left it with him anyway.

An ill-timed soldier came up behind and amiably patted Kallus on the shoulder, thrusting a drink into his hand. “Come on, Captain, at least pretend like you’re enjoying yourself,” they joked drunkenly.

Kallus stared numbly at the drink, cursing every discernible thing he could. Cursing that dwindling starlight. 

“Is everything alright?”

Kallus nodded his head. “Yes. I needed a word with someone."

“Who?"

“He’s... just someone I knew.”

Zeb stumbled back to his cabin on _the Ghost_ and collapsed onto the bunk. The room spun around him. His breath reeked. There existed no point in trying to stay awake at this state, but he tried anyway.

He had forced himself to relax and celebrate like the other Rebels that day. He assumed that it would have taken his mind off of things. But it hadn’t. That day was meant to have been a day of victory, and yet, all it brought to the surface was loss.

On the table next to him, lied an object. A meteorite, dark grey and yellow, but cold. The heat had extinguished a long time ago. Zeb grabbed it and rested his eyes.

If he closed them enough, he could barely imagine Kallus laid there too. 

A heavy anguish flooded his chest, and Zeb cowered his body to try and physically expel it. He had been so foolish. So incredibly foolish and blind. He _wanted_ to talk to Kallus, Hera even encouraged him to. But when the time had come, he was yet to be ready. Regressed into a scared little kit again, vainly running from irrational fears and truths too afraid to accept. A guardsman of nothing, a warrior without honor. 

The meteorite slipped from the clutch of his careless fingers and fell down to the ship’s floor.

Zeb thought about Kallus. About when he told him that he loved him. When Kallus laughed, and he never wanted to stop hearing it. Softly spoken secrets in the dark, confessions now held between strangers. When they breathed together, their bodies so close that they could have melted. When it all fell apart and Zeb never stopped loving him. Not even after he left. 

He closed his eyes, softly succumbing to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)
> 
> Any feedback is greatly appreciated!!


	2. Limerence

**-Kallus- Yavin 4, Four Years Prior**

_This was the night it all began._

A heavy barrage of rain rhythmically rattled against sodden ground and the metal exterior of the _Ghost_. The ship’s entrance ramp lied open, protected from the rain by a hastily set-up tarp structure, its battered fabric swaying in the wind. 

Muddy footsteps drew closer to the ship. 

The Rebel base on Yavin 4 had a facetious surface of stillness, a thinly-veiled tide amidst anxious undercurrents. Kallus stiffly walked up the ramp and swiped wet blond hair from his face. His clothes were weighed down and soaked; inevitability drowning him. Despite the success at the battle on Scarif, all hope seemed to have washed away with the disappearance of the Death Star plans on _Tantive VI_ … optimism remained quite elusive among the base. 

Kallus scanned around _the Ghost’s_ loading bay. On the far wall, a fold-out workbench had been set up with tools and a bo-rifle on top. A loudly snoring Zeb sprawled out across it, fallen asleep mid-cleaning the weapon.

Kallus sighed and fished out an oval-shaped object from his jacket, messily wrapped in crumpled, and, now wet, brown paper.

There existed a pervasive sense of calm to the resting Lasat amidst such turbulence. The metallic clunk of the rain seemed to quiet for a moment, and Kallus cautiously let his guard down, allowing his mind to slow and rest. Weary eyes relaxed and soaked in the image of Zeb’s neatly trimmed purple fur, defined muscles, and soft beard.

Zeb’s nose twitched, recognizing Kallus' presence, and Kallus quickly stuffed the wrapping back into his pocket. Zeb stirred. He softly grunted and lifted his head to blink at him. “Kal?” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and deep.

“It's me, Zeb," Kallus winced. "I’m sorry, I hadn't intended to bother you-” 

“S’okay...” Zeb grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Quit apologizin’ for things. You don’t need to.”

He yawned and stretched upward, showcasing impressive arms and sharp teeth. Kallus couldn’t help but notice a warm flutter in his chest, a feeling that dangerously traveled down to a lower part of his body.

Zeb pointed a clawed finger at the bit of wrapping sticking out of Kallus’ coat pocket. “Wha’s that?” he questioned, squinting a playful green eye. 

"Oh,” Kallus quickly pulled his jacket taut. "It's nothing, really. Only a datapad I didn't want to get wet," he lied. Zeb remained unconvinced, yet decided that it was trivial enough to let go.

“You're soaked. What are you doin' here?”

“I was intending to just check in-” Zeb raised an eyebrow, and Kallus absentmindedly rubbed his beard, chewing on his words. “I had heard that the news about Alderaan earlier upset you. I wasn't sure if you had wanted, maybe, to talk about it, perhaps-” 

“Ya know, you're good at a lot of things, Kal. Subtlety’s not one of them,” Zeb quipped tiredly, reaching out for levity but tonally failing to grasp it. As much as Kallus hated to admit it, Zeb knew him too well. That for Kallus, while discerning other’s thoughts was intuitive, there wasn’t particularly a course taught on emotional counseling at the Imperial Academy. "I appreciate the effort nonetheless," Zeb ensured.

Kallus laughed, sliding a crate over to sit down at the adjacent end of the workbench. “Never has been my best virtue.” 

“Virtue? Now that's generous.” A small grin grew on Zeb’s face. He looked down bashfully. “I’m fine, Kal. Really. How are you handlin' it?"

"It doesn't matter."

Zeb frowned. "You're scared too," he asserted. 

Kallus stared back, emotions hidden solid as stone. "I am."

They gazed at one another. 

Kallus wanted to say more, to scream at Zeb. That he was desperately, infallibly attracted to him. That he wanted to feel that toned, muscular body against his and to kiss him until the morning. That he loved the way Zeb spoke, how he could talk about whatever was on his mind for hours and hours, and Kallus would just listen, mesmerized. That Kallus was so afraid, so unbelievably afraid of his attraction. That there was no way that Zeb could feel the same. Because of his past. Because it wasn’t normal.

That he loved Zeb.

Kallus stood up. “I should get going, then. You were sleeping anyway, I disrupted you-”

“What if you stayed longer?” Zeb blurted out. His ears folded back, embarrassed by his eager tongue.

“Pardon?”

Zeb scratched at the back of his head. “What if ya stayed for a bit. l mean, we have lots of drinks and such. And ya know, look at you! You're soaked, and it's still cold out."

He reached out and gave the collar of Kallus’ jacket a squeeze, exemplifying its dampness. His claws brushed against Kallus’ skin for a moment- perhaps it was accidental, perhaps some other volition.

Kallus’ breath hitched.

Zeb closed his eyes, cringing at himself. “Nevermind. Karabast, that was stupid, you’re probably busy an’ all. I’m embarrassed now. Good night, Kal.”

“No, no. It sounds splendid, Zeb. I just…” Kallus could practically hear his own mind ticking, contemplating the offer. But his heart screamed louder. "Alright, I acquiesce. Why not?"

Zeb grinned back.

_Because if the world had ended that night, I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else._

Out of the corner of his eye, Kallus noticed something odd.

A black spot appeared in the middle of the metal floor, opening up, swallowing the room entirely. His vision faded out into an engulfing darkness. 

**-Zeb-**

Zeb set down the half-empty bottle a little too excitedly, its contents slightly spilling. “Thanks! I like it too!” he gestured to the workbench. “Had it for about… two years now. Was really cheap, which is great. And it’s not in too bad a condition, which is bizarre. And I have a little stand in the back, which is great, cause I can put holonovels and read there, while listenin' to the forest…”

Kallus soaked in Zeb’s rambling words with extreme interest, nodding along. He seemed especially quiet, in contrast with tipsy Zeb, who enjoyed talking even more so than sober Zeb did.

“I wasn't aware that you liked holonovels,” Kallus commented.

“Oh, heh. Yeah, I’ve been sorta a holonovel-exogorth lately, so to speak,” he replied. “There’s this one I read, sorta was about memory an’ all that. It seemed slightly elementary to me, though. But I liked it. Y'know? Anyway, cheers!” 

“Cheers,” Kallus responded. They clinked glasses. Zeb chuckled and took a big gulp. Kallus sipped his. 

“Forgot the name of it,” Zeb continued, his mind slightly foggy- perhaps an understatement. He couldn't quite recall how many glasses they already had at that point. He made a mental note to slow down. “Karabast, I told myself not to forget, an’ then I did anyway.” he frowned, mumpish.

Zeb silently cursed.

_I read those because I thought it would impress you._

_I was so in love._

The small portable thermal heater that he had rigged up for Kallus faintly buzzed. Warring wind and trees clashed and warped in the forest nearby; a silence fell as the two simultaneously took another sip of their drinks.

Zeb couldn’t look away from Kallus.

At his strong physique, bold posture, and short rugged beard. Zeb’s imagination started running at the image of his soft, plush lips, of how nice they would feel against his, or his _neck,_ or around- he hastily averted his attention downward. This didn’t help much, as he then noticed that the bottom of Kallus’ soaked shirt had somehow hitched up a little, exposing smooth, toned abs.

Zeb suddenly had a very urgent need to discreetly cover his lap.

He wanted to say more, to scream at Kallus. That at any moment, they could all be dead, _the Death Star_ striking the Rebel base like they had done to Alderaan in a brilliant and devastating flash of light. That Kallus should be with him. That the only time he ever felt like he could let his guard down was in Kallus’ presence. How Kallus looked at him when he laughed at his stupid awful jokes. That he never questioned Zeb or made him feel insecure. That Zeb wanted to kriff him up the wall so bad that his claws gripped and scraped the workbench at just the thought of it. That there was no way Kallus felt the same. 

That he loved Kallus.

Kallus set down the cup and cleared his throat. “I should probably go back. Cut myself off now while I still have the willpower, my tolerance isn't nearly as impressive as yours," he reminded, gesturing to the bottles. He stood up, flinching to catch his unstable balance. "Thank you for the drinks, Zeb. But, the galaxy continues on, as unfortunate as that seems lately.”

Zeb was crestfallen, but then perked up again. “Need me to walk you back?” he offered. He stood up to accompany Kallus, not waiting for an answer. 

Kallus smiled as his response.

_Karabast, that smile. I could’ve gotten lost in it forever._

In silence, they maneuvered down the slippery ramp of the ship- the combination of wet metal and buzzed minds making a seemingly easy task that much more difficult.

Once near the bottom, Kallus lost balance, grasping Zeb’s arms for support. “Thanks,” he breathed.

“S’why I’m here,” Zeb grunted. He made sure to flex his arms while Kallus’ hands were still on them. 

The rain, which had briefly softened into a light drizzle, untimely began to accumulate speed once more.

“Karabast,” Zeb grumbled, holding out a palm to gage it. “Let’s hurry. Not a huge proponent of wet fur.”

The two hurried across the shipyard.

They stopped under the shelter of an overhang of the temple, a collection of water now flooding beside them off of the lip. Zeb’s ears remained flat, a grumpy frown sporting his soaked face.

“I just realized,” Kallus breathed, moving wet hair out of his eye. “You're going to have to go through that again on your way back.”

Zeb wrung water out of his beard. He reflected back at the rain, pouring harder. “Karabast. I’ll, uh… I’ll figure it out.” 

Kallus laughed, his head tilted up to look at him. Zeb couldn’t help but notice that his eyes reflected pure amber gems in the fluorescent light.

Another silence hung in the air between the two. The small moment of warmth, of a shred of normalcy, froze up, and Kallus shivered. Zeb envisioned Kallus climbing back up into a barricade of shale and stone. He followed suit, but the frail rock crumbled under his hardened claws. 

Kallus seemed happy, happy with a secret. Zeb could tell that his mind was contemplating something.

He reached into his jacket and fished out the wrapped object that Zeb had caught a glimpse of before, offering it out in his hand. “Just a gift,” Kallus explained. “I was planning on giving it to you earlier, but I had forgotten. I thought that now, it would be appropriate.”

Zeb hesitated, looking back between Kallus and the object. He lightly plucked it out of his hand. The paper felt warm. “Heh, that’s neat, Kal. You didn’t have to, really.”

He clawed through the wrapping. In his rough hands, lay the soft yellow hue of a meteorite, oval, yellow and grey. The meteorite from Bahryn. Its glow shone warmer than the lights around them. Zeb held it up and chuckled, awestruck.

“Is this- you kept it?”

“Never left my side after that moon.”

Zeb shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around it. "Why?”

“To remind me of your kindness. Your honor. Now, I suppose it’s only fitting to give back to you. This time as your constant reminder. Make no mistake about it, Garazeb, it’s a gift from me to you so that you’ll always remember our friendship.” He smiled and patted Zeb’s furred arm. “Besides, my hands are warm enough now, anyway.”

Zeb blinked at him, unmoving. 

_I was so in love. In love with your mind, your heart, at the changed man that you had become. I was in love with your honor, the way your hair covered your face, the way you looked up at me, the way-_

“Surely it’s not _that_ ridiculous,” Kallus asked, hesitant.

“No!” Zeb spat, a lump in this throat causing him to sound guttural. “No, it’s perfect….”

The dams broke and cool waters flooded in all around Zeb's heart, sharply cold and piercing stark reality. He had to say something, he had to tell him.

"Kal, I need to tell you somethin'," he blurted. 

Kallus' smile faded. "Is everything alright-?"

"Yes! Yeah- well, no. Karabast. Okay, I’m gonna take a stab at this. It's a bit sooner than when I was plannin' on tellin' you, but I jus' can't take this anymore."

Zeb’s heart pounded now, thumping to match the beating pour of rainfall. The water in his veins froze to fragile ice and for a moment, he imagined he wasn't brave enough to do it. The ice remained too fragile, turning into a biting sharpness when broken. But it was worth it, worth the chance to take a stab to a beating heart, and even if-

_Do it. Or you’ll regret it forever._

“I want you, Kal,” Zeb said. He closed his eyes. For a moment, everything froze, the only indication of time passing the steady drum of rain outside. 

Kallus’ eyes narrowed. “You want me,” he repeated, processing it. 

Zeb’s gaze fixed to the ground, a defensive and numb frown planted on his face. He sighed, his breath shaking with adrenaline. 

"Garazeb, I don’t understa-”

"I want you! I want... I want to be _more_. With you." He fumbled over his sentences. “And not in a familial or friendly way. Don’t get me wrong, I think our friendship’s great, but in the other way. In the way where, I stand next to you and get this urge to hold you. I look into your eyes and get this feelin', this yearning, tellin' me to learn and get to know everythin' that you are. Yet, it's like you feel far away, like I'm lost tryin' to find you there."

Kallus didn’t move a muscle.

Zeb collected himself. "The point is: right now, I have no idea what I'm doing or what I should be doing. But that's okay! I only know what I feel now. An' right now, there isn’t another soul in this kriffin' galaxy who could make me feel half the way, half the man I am when I’m with you."

He remained frozen, staring at the muddy puddles beneath Zeb's feet.

"Karabast, Kal, I just couldn’t let another day go by without saying somethin', anything! Regardless of the outcome. Even if you don't feel the same, something I'm prepared for. I jus' wanted you to know how much you’ve meant to me. Which, while I appreciate it, I never needed a glowin' rock from an ice moon to remind me of."

He paused. Waiting. Waiting for a sign. Waiting for anything. Kallus' face was unreadable, obscured as a silhouette against the floodlights.

With a shaky breath, Kallus tilted his head back up. He grabbed onto one of his arms and fixed his gaze to the side, opening then closing his mouth as if to say something but then changing his mind. Zeb's ears fell flat. 

“I know," he finally confessed. "I do too.”

The rain started picking up impossibly fast, water flooding the ground. Kallus' figure faded out, the colors of the surrounding base incrementally washing into a neutral gray abstract. The water rose up to Zeb's chest. He collapsed into it, trying to swim away.

 _I must be dreaming._ _But, they’re just memories._

The scene changed, and Zeb found himself in a new environment completely.

“Zeb. Zeb! Are you even listening?”

“Wha- huh?” Zeb turned to look at the young pilot now standing behind him. “Um... yeah I am.”

Wedge pointed at his ear, gesturing that he couldn’t hear him. He nudged Zeb forward. “Come on man, it's cold. You're blocking the path.”

Zeb’s ear ruffled grumpily. He looked around at the setting: the crudely constructed Echo Base on Hoth. He rubbed his hands in his thick coat pocket to try and create warmth.

_I remember this. This was three years into our relationship. Kal and I had gotten into an argument the night before this day._

“Zeb. Zeb!" Wedge attempted but failed to get his attention. "Whatever, man. Catch you later,” Wedge walked away, shaking his head before joining conversation with someone else. Zeb silently wished that he had stayed. 

Zeb turned around and caught a glimpse of a blond rebel with muttonchops hurriedly walking down the hall perpendicular to the mess. He considered following him. Knocking on his imagination was some brief notion that he could apologize to Kallus now, that they would continue on for the rest of the day like nothing had happened. But the thought washed away.

_Maybe, I can change it._

As much as he willed himself to pursue Kallus, Zeb didn't. The memory of him turned and began walking in the opposite direction.

_Karabast, turn around! If I could just change it-_

Zeb stopped in his tracks, losing agency.

_Yes!_

Breaking from the memory, Zeb took control of his body and darted down the hall after him.

"Kal!" he shouted, turning the corner.

But, the walls revealed themselves to be unnaturally empty, the white hall lit at the end by a dark blue hue, blinding him. He turned around, only to be confronted by a thick wall of ice now blocking where he came from. He kicked it, the ice calmly crumbling under his foot.

Zeb picked up a clump of snow with prehensile feet and dropped it on the ground, testing the physics.

The room began to collapse, caving in around him, and the scene disappeared.


	3. Passing Moments

**-Kallus-**

The sound of mechanical whirs buzzed throughout the power room in the mobile Rebel fleet base. Zeb wiped grease from the fur on his forehead, kneeling in front of a busted power generator. Boots entered his field of vision. He looked up, lifting dirty goggles from his face. 

Kallus cleared his throat, standing in front of him. “Garazeb,” he greeted, apprehensive.

Zeb blinked at him in surprise. “Hi. South passage generator went out,” he explained, gesturing to the machine. Zeb stood up from his knees with a huff, his joints cracking from the shift in weight, and moved to the other side of the room to switch out tools. Kallus shadowed him. “Didn’t think you were gonna talk to me again,” he added. He kept his voice low in consideration of the other people within earshot. 

_This was two weeks after that night we confessed our feelings. I had avoided Zeb, even after the Battle of Yavin. I just needed time._

Kallus scrunched his brow, contemplating what to say. “I just needed some time.”

“Yeah? You sure communicated that well.” Zeb returned to the machine again, now tightening a bolt. "Two weeks. We haven't spoken in two weeks since that night. Not even after the _Death Star_ blew up."

_I know. I was never as good at communicating like you were. I was scared and confused, and I was... I didn’t know how I felt._

Kallus didn’t answer him.

Zeb attempted to tighten the bolt in, but it refused to budge. He pushed harder and harder, eventually growling and hitting the generator in frustration. “Kriffin’ piece of bantha-kark”. 

Kallus kneeled down, moved Zeb’s hands aside, and readjusted the wrench at a new angle. He tightened it with ease.

Zeb rubbed his sore hand. “Why are you here, Kal?” 

“I’ve been thinking, a lot, about what we had expressed to one another. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have avoided you since. I should have at least explained to you that-”

“Yeah, you should have,” Zeb flipped on the switch, it starting up. “Ya know, I never thought that you’d have a problem with me tellin' you how I felt.”

"That didn’t bother me, Zeb. What bothered me was that we weren’t entirely sober." Kallus repositioned away from his bad knee, wincing. "I was being selfish, not cognizant of the bigger picture. I was in over my head. I shouldn’t have told you, we both shouldn't have.” He hesitated. “It wasn't fair, Zeb.”

“I don't see how it's unfair we both got feelings for one another."

“No, it's _unfortunate_ that we do!" he corrected. "It's unfair that you decided to put that burden on me to confront it!" Kallus scanned the room, suddenly self-conscious of how loud his voice had raised. Other people had begun to stare. The comlink on Kallus’ hip buzzed, cutting through the white noise of the room. He clicked it. “I'm needed elsewhere, Zeb,” he whispered. “I'm more than willing to discuss this further when you’re ready. Or, at least able to understand.”

Kallus departed from the room, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself, as if searching within its fabric for some fleeting impression of comfort. He turned left and then down into the main passage. He curtly nodded to a few Rebels walking down the otherwise empty hall. 

_Zeb’s about to follow me._

“Kal!" Zeb shouted, his voice echoing. Kallus pretended to ignore him. 

Zeb pursued. Kallus slowed down to a stop and acquiesced, stiffly turning around to face him. “What?” He was taken aback by how tired his voice had come across, and how heavy his eyelids suddenly felt. He racked his brain to remember the last time he had slept.

“I don’t know-”

“What! What do you want, Zeb?”

“I don’t know! Just wait!” Zeb raised his palms up in confusion. “I just want you to wait.”

His inner eyebrows curved up and his ears folded back in a pleading look. Kallus sighed and softened his tense shoulders. He thought that Zeb looked rather like a scared tooka-cat. He turned to rest his back against the wall, and Zeb moved to the side across, facing him.

Kallus rubbed his temple and then ran fingers through his hair, frustration tempered by his innate gravitation towards Zeb.

“We can’t be together, Zeb," he explained. "It's just not possible.” 

“Why?”

“Because, what if tomorrow, you suddenly see me differently? That you realize you haven’t forgiven me for my past. Or, maybe I still can’t move past it. Or, maybe I can, but you’ll realize how selfish I am for trying to. Or, maybe I’m insecure of the notion that you didn’t forgive me because you forgive me, that you only said it because you were attracted to me, which I know isn’t true, but I can’t help but think of. Or, maybe it's the fact that, my whole life, I've been ingrained to believe that relationships like these are wrong, and… I know they’re accepting here, but what if they aren't?”

He raised his hand to cup Zeb’s bearded jaw. 

“Or what if I just care for you too much, and I’m afraid of it falling apart. Because I would never want to hurt you, not even risk the chance.”

A beat passed. Zeb nodded, soaking in Kallus’ words. “M'kay. Then why haven't you left already?”

The question pierced Kallus’ skin like a cold knife. Simple, yet raw, potent. “Because, this stubborn, selfish part of myself can’t let you go," he said. "Because despite all of it, I want you nonetheless-”

Zeb grabbed Kallus’ hands. “Then listen to it. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Kallus considered. He focused on the small heartbeat pulsing through Zeb's fingertips, the Lasat's foolishly honest heart. So genuine and open, yet shielded at the same time. It was fear that he hid, Kallus could see the whisper of it within intense green eyes. Fear that he had made himself too vulnerable, that Kallus would take advantage of this gateway into his heart and shatter it into a million pieces.

Kallus calmed. He would never hurt Zeb, and he would never do that to himself.

“So, what do we do?” he asked.

“We jus' try. That’s all we can.”

Kallus relaxed, releasing pent-up tension, and smiled, a scared, confused, excited smile. “Okay.”

The grey pipes and inconsistencies in color along the walls faded out around them, the detail in the passage suddenly hazy. Kallus blinked and Zeb vanished. Yet, he still remained in the blank hall. Alone.

_I thought we were going to figure it out. I thought you were going to save my life._

_And at first, you did._

The scene swept up from under Kallus’ feet, and for a moment, he suspended in darkness. 

His vision flooded with color again. 

Kallus now stood in the entry of the _Ghost’s_ galley, watching a shirtless Zeb sleepily pour so much milk in his caf that Kallus gagged just by looking at it.

He approached and hugged Zeb’s back, basking in the warmth exuding onto his bare chest and the strong, musky smell that resided there. Zeb made a sound like a purr and peered at Kallus’ black caf, bitter as death, to only skew his face in disgust. 

Zeb switched his gaze and Kallus realized that he was now staring at him.

His heartbeat went up, starting from his belly and ending in a flutter in his heart. He reached forward and rubbed his head against Zeb’s neck, the touch still surprising him, convincing himself that Zeb was real. Kallus thought he was brave enough to say that he loved him, and for a moment, he almost was.

_I wish I had told you more. I wish I told you how scared I still was. Of how my worries still persisted in the back of my mind forever. Of how true what I said eventually became._

_I wish I had told you a lot of things._

“So, tell me.”

Kallus paused, his mouth slightly parted open in surprise. “You can hear me?” he asked, incredulous.

“Of course I can hear you. I'm whatever you want, Kal. In here, I'll always be whatever you want."

His vision faded out into darkness.

**-Zeb-**

Zeb traced his claw lightly down Kallus' back, connecting the freckles that resided there like impressions of stars amongst the sky. The two lied on the floor of Zeb's cabin on _the Ghost_ , a thick green blanket covering them from head to toe, euphoric heavy breaths fading into softly-spoken whispers as their heartbeats calmed, heads still fuzzy and warm. The meteorite lied between them.

“Alexsandr?” Zeb asked faintly after a moment’s silence. He lifted the blanket and flooded light upon Kallus’ bare body. He admired the view for a moment.

_Karabast, he's so beautiful._

“Yes, Garazeb?”

Zeb hesitated. "It's strange, you know,” he blurted out. “Bein’ around species that aren’t your own all the time." He spoke hurriedly, like a kit embarrassed by his foolish honesty. Kallus turned around to look at him, but Zeb had now faced the other way. "An’ a lot of humans don't really think of me as that attractive, and say that I smell, an’ such. I jus'-” he chuckled nervously. "I can’t believe I’m tellin’ you this. For a while, I thought the reason you were hesitant about us was maybe because you were embarrassed to be my partner.”

Kallus pulled Zeb's shoulder down so that his back rested flat on the floor. He repositioned, now lying completely on top of Zeb. “I wouldn’t have wanted for any part of you to have been different,” he whispered. "Not one bit."

He began kissing all over Zeb, at first light and gentle, but then strong and sure. Kallus kissed his lilac stomach, his ears, his large clawed hands, the gruesome scars across the thicker fur on his chest.

_"Alexsandr."_

“Zeb-”

”Don’t ever leave me.”

“You are perfect.”

_Just let me stay here. Please, let me stay here forever._

Zeb felt cold, an abrupt frigid thickness enveloping him. He sat up, only to find himself now lying in a dark snow-covered hill. He observed around, at the snowflakes falling in the air and mountains fading to darkness around him. The meteorite appeared next to him, alongside a thick green blanket. "Take me back!" he shouted at no one in vain. "Please! If this is a dream, take me back!"

He sunk into the snow, nothing but an empty heart and lonely limbs, and the scene disappeared around him.

He opened his eyes. Zeb now was on the entrance ramp to _the Ghost._ A faint breeze carried through the opening, along with it, the intrigue of enticing scents. He glanced down- no snow jacket, he wore only his jumpsuit. He crouched low and descended, peering outside only to discover temperate tan prairies. _Lothal._

 _This was close to the attack on Echo Base. We were on mission, but it got sidetracked, and_ _Hera, Kal, and I decided to lie low in Lothal to_ _get the Empire off our tails._

Zeb basked in the feeling of the natural, warm ground beneath his toes.

Light footsteps approached him from behind. Zeb didn't need to turn around to know- his keen nose had already done the trick- but he glimpsed back to confirm it was Kallus, his eyes glued to a report.

Zeb studied him as he finished reading, his lips slightly mouthing out the words.

Kallus glanced up at him and smiled weakly, absentmindedly running his free hand up and down the sides of Zeb's torso. "Hera ventured into town to acquire parts," he explained. Unable to stop stress-fidgeting, Kallus now migrated his hand to Zeb's shoulder, massaging a frequently occurring knot that Zeb complained of often.

"Sounds about right. _Ghost_ got pretty banged up in the ambush," Zeb observed. "I'm surprised Hera even got it to land."

"Really? You're surprised?" 

Zeb chuckled. "No, no I'm not."

He leaned into Kallus in silence, his gaze falling at the sound of loth-wolves piercing through the quiet breeze far away.

He squinted backwards at Kallus. He studied him, the way the sun hit his hair, which had grown longer now, the way his lips were so exotic and inviting. He grabbed onto Kallus' arm, feeling it, guaranteeing to himself that he was still there. That Zeb wouldn't blink his eyes and Kallus would slip from his clumsy fingers just like everything else in his life.

"Don't leave me, Kal."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Kallus began to fade in Zeb's hand.

Suddenly, Zeb snapped through the memory, turning around and grabbing the seemingly-elusive transparent figure, pulling him in close. Kallus re-materialized. "Kal!" Zeb pulled away, shocked that it had worked. 

“What?” The memory of Kallus appeared unfazed.

Zeb gawked at him, wild-eyed, and looked around. “You're still here,” he observed.

“Garazeb, of course I'm here. If this is one of your games, I’m not in the mood."

Zeb pondered. His attention drew to the far end of the horizon, which had began to warp, and noticed that the metal around them was rusting by the second. "I'm runnin' out of time," he realized. He grabbed Kallus' hand. "We gotta leave. Come on!"

He pulled Kallus away, but at the first step they took, the ground flipped beneath their feet, the world shifting. The two now suddenly appeared crouched behind an Imperial blast-door on a Star Destroyer, shooting at oncoming stormtroopers. 

_I remember this mission. I must have jumped between memories fast._

"Any second now!" Zeb reminded passive-aggressively over his shoulder to Chopper, who was overriding the controls beside them. The droid grumbled in annoyance and the door opened. The group moved back through, but Zeb grabbed Kallus.

"This way!" he yelled, diverging from the group and dogging through blaster fire to drag Kallus through a door to the side, where, instead of entering another room, they were enveloped by a dark void. They emerged now in a control room on a Rebel freighter. Zeb panted, catching his breath. "Kal, listen, we gotta-"

He turned round to face him, but Kallus was already gone.

_I thought it would work._

**-Kallus-**

Kallus glanced over. He was situated in the lounge of _the Ghost_ , next to Zeb, who hunched over a datapad, filling in a mission report. Kallus rubbed his bad knee absentmindedly, glancing down at a datapad in his other hand.

The holodrama that had been left on before Jacen went to bed blared a loud noise distractingly. Zeb chuckled at it softly, while Kallus rolled his eyes. He always despised this program. Jacen, however, loved it candidly, and Kallus always had a sneaking suspicion that Zeb was an undisclosed fan, so he never complained.

_Last time, the memory of Zeb could hear me. Maybe I can just-_

An idea formed in Kallus' head. He strained and pushed, yet couldn't get the memory of him to move.

He tried again.

Finally, he gained control and leaped at Zeb, embracing him. "Garazeb! You can hear me, right?" Kallus pulled back, surprised not only that he had been able to move but also that it had worked.

“Of course I can hear you," Zeb teased. "I'm talkin' to you right now."

Kallus moved around his arms and fingers, testing the control he now had. "Yes, I realize, but the question is _how_. How am I even talking to you? How am I seeing all of these memories, and how am I changing them? It doesn't seem to fit any rationale-” 

“I suppose,” Zeb shrugged, setting down the datapad and scratching his stomach sleepily. “I mean, but if it's all in your head, nothin's really meant to make sense here anyway.”

Kallus studied the drama from afar, not listening to him. “Strange. What year is this?” he demanded, and jumped up to investigate the drawers and storage in the room, as if something inside them would provide a clue.

“3 ABY,” Zeb replied. “New calendar, that is."

Kallus paused, an idea forming in his head. "I can change these, right?" he thought out loud. "That's what this means, I'm changing this memory right now.”

"Yeah, but why would you want to change-"

Kallus ignored him again and jogged to the exit.

The door opened, but on the other side, where the ship’s passageway should be, now appeared a pure black void.

“Shit,” he breathed. He turned around and noticed that the holodrama had disappeared, along with all of the furniture. "Shit. Shit. Shit- I'm too late, aren't I?"

Kallus grasped Zeb’s hand, pulling him further away from the darkness.

“Something like this happens every time,” Kallus explained. “Everything becomes nonsensical and then eventually disappears.”

As if on cue, water commenced to rain down from the metal roof, at first slow and then gaining impossible speed. “That’s not normal,” Zeb commented. “Karabast, I don’t want my fur gettin' wet!”

“You’re fine, that's the least of our concerns! Listen, Zeb. Zeb, are you listening?” 

“Yeah!”

The water had now inexplicably risen to their necks, them treading in it to stay above. “We split up, Zeb!" Kallus yelled, as if telling him now would make a difference. "It’s going to happen eventually! I shut down, I stop communicating with you and we fight constantly. And then it all falls apart. Zeb, don’t let me do that! Do you hear me?”

“Kal-”

“Don’t let that happen!” 

“Kal, I’m just your imag- I don’t think I can-”

Zeb vanished in Kallus’ grasp, and Kallus splashed around, searching for him. A sudden current sucked him down, down, further down into seemingly bottomless depths of bleak and icy water. 

Kallus closed his eyes, and the scene changed.

He opened them. Kallus now sat in the mess hall of a cruiser in the mobile Rebel fleet, about six months before the Battle on Endor. One month before him and Zeb split up. He peered up from his food, attempting to remember what the blazes the lieutenant sitting across from him and he had been discussing.

“Right, they’re only deploying one squadron for that," she spoke to him. "But now there’s also talk about a campaign on-”

She was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them, cutting through the background conversations in the hall. They both looked up. 

“Garazeb,” Kallus stated more than greeted. His face fell, his feigned eyes failing to hide the noticeable shift in his voice.

_We are about to have an argument. This is my chance to fix it._

Kallus gained control, stood up, and jogged around the table. He grabbed onto Zeb’s hand to pull him away. “Zeb! We need to discuss something, now. I’m terribly sorry about this,” he addressed the lieutenant, but she had vanished. In fact, the mess hall was noticeably less crowded, people in the background disappearing at nearly every second.

Towing Zeb along, he sprinted across the room. Zeb resisted. “Kal! What are you doin'?”

“I’ll clarify in a moment!” He turned through the passageway and entered an empty room. He pulled Zeb through. 

He huffed in exasperation. “What is going on?”

“Zeb, you have to listen to me-”

“No! I’m supposed to be pissed off at you right now!” Zeb argued, folding his arms across his chest. “Remember?”

“Yes, I'm well aware, Garazeb, but that’s my point. We need to prevent this from happening, somehow!” Kallus paced around the room, stroking his beard in thought. “This must be a dream, or something of that sort. That’s the only logical explanation.” He noticed that Zeb was still glaring at him. “Zeb, think!”

Zeb threw his hands up. “I’m just your memory of Zeb, what do you want me to do? Another subconscious expression of how useless I am, is that right? This is all supposed to be _your_ fault, remember! I’m pissed off at _you_!”

“This is precisely what you do every time, you take everything that I do and blow it completely out of proportion!” Kallus kicked the table, shouting in frustration.

He turned his back to him and collected himself. He knew Zeb too well. So much so in fact that this memory of him could almost have been an exact replica. Almost.

"You said you’re only my imagination,” he recalled. "So I _am_ within a dream of some kind, aren't I?"

“Yeah. Sure, whatever."

Kallus breathed in deeply, ignoring him. He paused, his voice becoming quiet in hopeless realization. "I can’t change them, can I?” Zeb shook his head and Kallus' heart fell. "I suppose it was foolish of me to believe that I could. Then what should I do?"

“Enjoy them. Hate them. Understand them. That's the only thing you can do.”

The floor swept up from under Kallus’ feet.

Kallus was now lying in the snow, watching the stars with Zeb. He was now in _the Ghost_ , stumbling into the walls while kissing Zeb, ripping off his jacket. He was now awkwardly holding Jacen, laughing uncontrollably at one of Zeb’s jokes. He was now lying naked with Zeb, confessing secrets he dared ever tell anyone else before. He was now holding onto a shaking Zeb, telling him that there was nothing more he could have done for Kanan or Lasan. He was now being held by Zeb, who was telling him, reassuring him, that he deserved everything. He was now arguing with Zeb, who was saying that Kallus felt distant and cold.

He was now jogging through the snowy terrain of Hoth, Zeb chasing him before tackling him, kissing each other until they got too cold to feel their toes. Zeb looked down from above him, eyes warm with love. “Do you remember our first date?” he suddenly asked. “That night on Yavin 4, when I took you to see the stars?”

Kallus raised an eyebrow. “But I'd hardly consider that a date, we weren’t together then, Garazeb.”

“I know, but to me, it was. We jus' didn’t realize it at the time.”

“I guess so.” Kallus reminisced. “Yes, I remember.”

_Take me back there._

Kallus was now there as well.

He observed the Yavin 4 forest surrounding them, the brightly lit stars above, and the portable lounging chairs that Zeb had hauled up to the clearing to surprise Kallus with. Zeb was seated in the one next to him. “You know, my mother taught me all about the stars,” Zeb explained to him. “See that one right there? That one’s-”

_It was here when I first knew. Here, I first realized that I had fallen in love with you, only, at the time, I still wasn't even aware of how hard I fell._

“I fell in love with you here too,” Zeb replied. 

Kallus smiled at him pleadingly and returned his attention back up into the stars. They felt so far away. “If only I could stay here forever-”

“You can’t.”

“I know. Then at least let me enjoy it, one last time.”

And they sat. And he enjoyed it. One last time.

The scene faded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Any feedback is greatly appreciated!


	4. The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo I finally caught the canon inconsistency in the previous chapters in relation to the timeline for Echo Base, which I’ve now corrected. Sorry about that :/ 
> 
> I hope you all still enjoy!

**-Kallus-**

The first thing that flooded Kallus’ mind now was the searing pain emanating from his knee. Not like the dull pains he still frequently experienced, no, this was hot, sharp, fresh. The kind that made his head throb, closed eyes yielding visions of pulsating red. The kind of pain that he had only experienced akin to one time before. 

Kallus opened his eyes and grasped at his new surroundings. Around him, was a dark, frigid, cramped space, a beam of light from above illuminating angular metallic surfaces. 

His head jerked up in response to an incoming motion. Large claws grasped his shoulder roughly and dragged him out, strong and forceful.

“Ugh, what- what are you doing?” Kallus shrieked involuntarily. The claws crudely tossed him onto cold ground, Kallus’ head searing static and maroon once more. The clothes he wore were tough and unmoving against him. He attempted to bear his surroundings. 

“I was jus’ thinkin’ about how easy I could crush your head,” Zeb gloated, arming his bo-rifle directly at him. 

Kallus was overcome with realization. He glanced around. Icy caverns, crashed escape pod, Imperial ISB armor, large orange planet overhead. _Bahryn._ However, this memory felt different. In this memory, Kallus already had full control.

“But,” Zeb grumbled. “I would rather wait for you to heal, so we can finish our fight, fair and square.” Kallus discreetly mouthed along to Zeb’s words out of recollection. Zeb attached the bo-rifle to his back and rummaged in the escape pod, grunting.

Kallus propped himself up on his elbows, a knowing smile on his face. He looked around and then shook his head, still out of breath from the pain. “No, we both know that’s not entirely the truth.” 

The memory of Zeb’s ear flicked and he glanced back, a non-charged heater swinging in his hand. “What did you say?”

“I said, that’s not true,” Kallus breathed, still wincing in pain. “You weren’t thinking about crushing my head, you were thinking of doing something _else_ with me.” 

Zeb’s fur ruffled and his eyes widened, his reaction unknowingly giving it away. “An’ what do you exactly mean by that?”

“Must I spell it out for you?”

“I don’t know what you’re goin’ on about-” 

“Yes, you do. I'm aware because you told me,” Kallus chuckled. “Or, will tell me. Later, much later on from now.”

Zeb set the heater down in front of him and gave it a few pats to turn on. He glanced at Kallus again, dumbfounded. “Quit playin’. Either that or the pain’s gettin’ to your head.” 

A creature roared from the depths of the cave system. Zeb grabbed Kallus’ bo-rifle from the ground and aimed it at the source.

“The pain’s not getting to my head, Zeb, it’s me, Kal. Alexsandr.” He hesitated for Zeb to address him like he had in the other memories. But the lasat remained stoic.

“I don’t know anyone named Alexsandr.” Zeb now swung the weapon to aim at Kallus. He looked almost fearful. “I don’t know what you’re tryin’ to play at, but I don’t like it. So either start making sense or kark it."

Kallus now grew exasperated, patience worn thin, yet intertwined by a newfound curiosity. “I’m not playing at anything. After this, I defect from the Empire,” he explained. “I question my ways and become an agent for the Rebellion, which I eventually join and become a member of myself."

Zeb huffed. “Yeah, right. An’ I’m bantha-kark,” he retorted, caustic. "You would never."

"As a matter of fact, I do-"

“An' even if you did join us, it wouldn’t change the fact that you’ll always be a nasty, heartless Imp.”

This struck a nerve. Kallus’ exasperation quickly bled into frustration. “You don’t know that. I make amends,” he argued. “I change from my past, I do good things, I learn to help people, I...” Kallus winced in pain, at a loss for more words. “I change,” he whimpered again, giving up the argument before actually fighting for it.

The memory of Zeb paused and let up his act. He lowered the bo-rifle, a sympathetic frown now across his face.

“An’ how do you expect me to believe you when you don’t even believe it yourself?”

Kallus trembled. The words struck him like a blow to the gut, knocking the cold breath out from his lungs and reducing the frail, scared man hiding inside into a doubled-over husk. He huffed in acknowledgement. “That’s the lesson, then, isn’t it? That's the reason I'm here, witnessing all this again.”

“Lesson? There needs to be a lesson?” 

“Typically, yes,” Kallus looked up. “Logically speaking, if this is in my head, there must be some sort of subconscious reason for all of it.”

The memory of Zeb approached him and kneeled down. He grabbed the bo-rifle, extended it, and placed it next to Kallus’ injured leg. “You and your logic,” he teased adoringly, shaking his head. “When has that ever served you well? Now, hold still.” He snatched up gauze from the med kit and began crafting a makeshift splint. 

Kallus mulled the words over in his head while Zeb worked. “Well, what’s the other explanation?” he asked.

“Dunno. Whatever you make of it.” Zeb finished tightening the apparatus and leaned back, admiring his work. He stood up and offered a hand to him. “Like I said. Here, I’m whatever you want me to be.”

Kallus attempted to bring himself up, but then collapsed into Zeb’s open arms, squinting in pain. 

He took a moment to rebalance and nuzzled his head against Zeb’s soft neck, in the way that he knew Zeb liked. Zeb's throat rumbled softly. “I know. That’s what I loved about you,” Kallus murmured. “You were so resilient, so headstrong. I hated that I wasn’t.”

“You never told me that.”

“I didn’t tell you a lot of things,” he said. “I wish that I had. I wish I had done it all differently. I suppose that I felt scared, that if I expressed to you my fears and frustrations, I would have thrown our relationship into jeopardy.” He shook his head in regret. “The irony became that by internalizing it, I caused precisely what I attempted to prevent.”

Zeb paused. “You were scared?” he asked. He seemed surprised.

“Terrified. I thought you knew that about me."

Zeb shook his head no.

"Scared that I still wasn’t enough for you, that it would be my fault if it didn’t work out, which it inevitably became. Scared that I had this attraction to you, that people would somehow think of me differently because of our relationship. That you were exciting, that all the things that made you seem so different were all so wondrous and thrilling nonetheless. Scared that inside I remained the same horrible, prejudiced monster that I once was."

The floor and white icy walls in the cavern around them began to mildly shake. The two ignored it. 

"But as the war intensified," Kallus continued, "we both became so caught up in the cause and had less time for ourselves. Eventually, I couldn’t handle it all.”

He sighed and cupped Zeb’s cheek. 

“But I still held onto the notion that we would figure it out. I thought you would save my life.”

“That's the problem,” Zeb said, raising his voice to be heard over the crescendoing rumble. “You assumed that all your pain, insecurities, hurtin’, would be saved by me. That I would've made them all go away.” 

Kallus said nothing. Shards of ice had begun to fall around them, followed by crumbling chunks of the walls. 

“You can’t expect me to save you,” he continued. “But I will always be there to help you recover along the way. Like this.” He tapped a claw onto the splint on Kallus’ leg. “I can only make the pain feel better, but that’s all. The rest of the healin’s on you. You're a good man with an honorable heart. It's time you recognize that.” 

“But,” Kallus interjected, shouting now. “I don’t know if I can!”

“I’ll be waitin' to help. I’ll always be. I always have, all this time.”

The cave was now collapsing indefinitely. Kallus leaped forward and kissed Zeb, running his fingers through his beard and then down his muscular body, wistful and passionate, as if it were the last time he would ever feel those enticing lips against his. 

But deep down, a small corner of his mind knew that it wouldn’t be. 

He pulled back. “But if this exists in my head, how will you know?” Kallus shouted. “I still have yet to express any of this to you.”

“Then tell me again when you wake up.”

**-Zeb-**

The familiar chill of morning wind and salt greeted Zeb’s senses. 

He stretched out across a fairly large bed, unlike the hard, stiff bunks from the Rebellion and on the _Ghost_. This was a real bed, light, cozy, silk sheets that caused Zeb’s fur to stick up when he brushed against them fast. Light wafted through the open window to his right, illuminating surfaces in precise, sharp, geometrical strokes.

He propped himself up, moved to the edge of the bed, and rubbed the grogginess from his eyes. One side of his beard stuck upwards where his face had been resting on the pillow. He fervently patted it down, surveying the new environment.

Around him was the interior of a small home, cramped yet charmingly humble, thick brown walls with plants occupying almost every corner, small trinkets and mementoes on shelves around. He spotted a mirror and examined himself.

He looked slightly older. He was broader, more filled in, a little bit of grey to his beard, but nothing too worrisome, calmer, more content. His eyes stayed the same, however. They remained blind, staring back into the eyes of a kit he knew not of anymore. A young boy he didn't understand, buried inside never to remember nor let go. 

His eyes were lying. He was never that kit.

He rummaged more throughout the house. In a drawer dwelled soft clothes that fitted his size, strewn about and messy, and then smaller, specially-tailored clothes neatly folded into piles. He pulled on trousers. This juxtaposition of tidy versus unorganized carried on throughout the rooms as a persistent theme, two contrasting forces coinciding, balanced.

One of the shelves made him pause. A grey and yellow oval meteorite occupied it.

He re-approached the window by the bed and peered out, confirming his suspicion. Outside, the emerging sun beat down upon chaparral hills abruptly halting into cliff edges, an ocean below reaching outwards for the horizon. 

_Lira San._

Zeb slunk out the wooden door, departing from the quaint home, and trailed across the countryside dense with shrubs green, brown, and orange. Domesticated tip-yips hobbled around. The taste of windblown salt in the air strengthened as he approached the cliff edge closer, and a sandy beachfront unveiled itself below. The figure of a human emerged out of the distant water. Kallus.

By the time Zeb had trekked down the switchback path carving through steep terrain, Kallus was now reclined in the tan sand, melancholically studying the collision of waves and shore before him. Zeb approached, and Kallus smiled wanly, not detaching his eyes from the horizon.

“Couldn’t sleep again,” Kallus explained. "I assumed it was getting better, but they come and go. Some worse than others." He finally turned to face Zeb, shielding his eyes from the sun.

Zeb said nothing. Kallus reunited his gaze to the ocean and inhaled deeply.

“I'm tossing around the proposition of going out for another swim. If you want, you can accompany me. You do need to exercise, my love."

Zeb still was yet to move a muscle. He attempted to wrap his mind around what was happening, how Kallus was in front of him, in Lira San, swimming in its oceans and living in its countryside. He attempted to say something profound, yet sentences eluded him. He shook his head in numb astonishment.

All he could muster was, meekly, “Kal…”

Kallus studied him. His face steadily fell. “You aren't here yet, are you?” he observed.

Zeb cautiously shook his head and Kallus nodded in deep thought, wistful.

“No, you are not. You are far, far away from here.” 

The two returned their gaze to the water.

Zeb decided to take the moment to soak in the setting. The sharp, yellow sedimentary cliffs around them, the rhythm of colliding waves, the image of Kallus, blond hair wet and messy, and the wind blowing peacefully through the thicker fur on Zeb’s chest.

“This one’s different,” he observed. “It’s not a memory. This never happened.”

Kallus nodded and looked around, as if just now cognizant of his surroundings. “I suppose, but perhaps it has.”

Zeb joined him in the sand, still slightly confused. “So, this is the future? We get back together, and I bring you to Lira San?”

“You can call it the future, if you'd like,” Kallus replied.

Zeb buried his head onto Kallus’ chest, brushing against the coarse hair there and the warmth of his skin. The soft march of a heartbeat faintly sang through. He peeked back up. "Well, what would you call it?”

“For me, reality. For you, what can be, contingent on what you choose to make of it."

"Okay, then if I choose to."

"Then, yes.” Kallus breathed in deeply and admired the view around them. “You bring me here, and I love it. And you love it too, and we grow into old men together.”

“Well, what about free will? Say, what if tomorrow, I travelled to the other side of the galaxy and hid there forever. If I did that, then this wouldn’t happen.” 

“You’re correct, you could. But, you won’t,” Kallus answered enigmatically, a stubborn grin on his face. 

Zeb frowned. He dismissed the probability of getting any clear answers from him. Instead, he stood up, offering a clawed hand. "Come on," he invited. "I wanna take a walk, enjoy this with you. At least pretend like it could be real." Kallus opened his mouth as if say something, but then decided not to, accepting Zeb's hand and hauling himself upright.

They wandered aimlessly across the rolling shoreline. 

Zeb couldn't help but feel foolish for so hastily considering that this could one day be a reality. Him, Kallus, Lira San, _together, happy_. In no galaxy would this ever be, save for the misplaced delusions of the owner of a lonely heart.

He admired Kallus for a moment and softly squeezed his hand twice.

He didn’t care if this wouldn’t ever happen. This was enough.

Zeb kicked water up at Kallus with his feet and laughed wildly, running away.

Kallus caught up and tackled him down onto the wet shore, realizing only when it became too late that Zeb had locked around his grip. Kallus collapsed on top of him, the tide briefly engulfing the pair before bashfully retreating.

They kissed, hearts beating under the bleeding sun and wrapped in the ocean's salty lip.

Zeb was lost, staring up into amber eyes.

“I think that I’m ready," Kallus breathed, staring down back at him. "I think I’m ready for kits, Zeb. Life’s becoming rather uneventful, wouldn't you agree?"

Zeb attempted to suppress his elated grin but failed. “We can adopt three,” he reasoned, scratching his beard. “No, four. Five. We’ll have a great big ol’ family. Jus’ like the one I used to have.”

“We can begin with one. How’s that?”

“Two,” Zeb bargained.

“I’ll settle," he sighed. "Never the path of least resistance with you, is it?”

“We're warriors, how hard could it be?” Zeb gently scraped his claws through Kallus' hair. They kissed again and intertwined fingers, pressing their bodies so close together that he couldn't discern where his ended and Kallus' began.

Zeb's heart dropped. He withdrew, his expression heavy. 

"What if I'm not meant to ever figure it out?” he lamented. “What if I'm not meant to have this, and just lose and lose forever?"

The memory of Kallus shook his head and frowned. “You're so fixated on what you've lost, or what you can lose, that you neglect to grasp at what's in front of you."

He stood up and inspected the sand that now covered them from head to toe.

"You have to accept that I left. Things come and go, yet that doesn't mean they're broken or lost forever. You wanted us to be perfect, Zeb, for us to ignore the things that stood in-between, but that's something neither of us can ever be."

Zeb got up to follow him, a million questions rushing to his head. “I have to let you go, right?” he chose. "That's what this is about."

Kallus turned to face him again, squinting in the sun. "I thought you would have guessed by now. Yes. You need to go back, and I must remain here. What happened, happened, you can't change that. But, you still have the capacity to amend something in the future."

He began walking away, his figure slowly becoming transparent, the environment around them darkening.

"It won't be perfect, but things aren't quite ever meant to be. We'll figure it out, trust me. We have time."

“But what if I don’t want to let you go? What if you stayed, enjoyed this with me? What if my Kallus never comes back?” 

All of his questions were in vain. The figure of Kallus was barely an abstract now. 

_Stop him. Do something._

Dark and choppy water rushed around Zeb's waist. 

_No._

_Goodbye, Kal._

At last, Zeb dove under the cool sea, cleansing the sand from his body. The world faded around him, but this time, he didn't fight its uncertain pull, he embraced it.

He opened his eyes.


	5. Stubborn Honor

**Forest Moon of Endor - 4 ABY**

Kallus opened his eyes, only to be met with darkness again, a dim room slowly revealing itself before him as they adjusted. He lied once more on the fold-out cot that he had last remembered being on, within a Rebel cruiser nestled on the forest moon of Endor. He tossed his body to the side in hot uncomfortableness. 

_Some kriffing dream._

The thick scratchy sheets didn’t allow him to fall back asleep, they knew his story wasn’t yet resolved. He threw them off, his mind mulling over Zeb, about what he had dreamt. 

In tired restlessness, he swung himself upright and slipped away from the cot.

He stumbled over to the refresher. Inside, he flicked on the lights, immediately regretted the brightness that shone, and turned them back off. He relieved himself and then approached the faucet, a mirror straight-ahead. 

In this dark mirror where he now resided, Kallus could barely make out his reflection. He studied himself, shadows obscuring random corners of his face so that it formed only the outlines of a resemblance. Kallus reached out to touch his own cheek, watching the mirage do the same. This distorted reflection appeared nothing like him. Nothing like the scared, frail, Imperial agent that kept staring back time and time again. 

Because that wasn’t him anymore. Maybe one day, he would reappear to haunt him again, but for now, he wasn't. And that was enough. Kallus smiled.

Outside, the moon marched on sleepily. The faint sounds of quieter celebration emanated from the trees far away, the last of the celebrators attempting to fight their falling eyelids, a drunk merry crowd. Small torches illuminated the Ewok village and flickered like fireflies. 

The light crunch of Kallus’ boots drifted across the forest floor, guiding him to his destination, the stars lighting the way. 

Within Kallus dwelled this stubborn drive to do something, yet, at the same time, he had the faintest notion of what he was doing. He hoped to talk to Zeb, that much he could discern. But he had yet to formulate what to say, or even how to say it. He only knew that he would set things right; then, now. Even if it meant facing the grumpiness of waking a sleeping Garazeb.

Amused at the thought, Kallus laughed for what felt like the first time in half a year, confusing his rusted lungs.

  
  


The entrance ramp to the _Ghost_ lowered itself into the black sky. Zeb stood inside the cargo bay, yawning, and released his grip from the control panel. 

He hadn’t been able to fall back asleep that night. He was having strange dreams.

Zeb walked down to the ramp and stood still, closing his eyes and breathing, in and out, in and out, the wind ruffling through his fur, and the trees whispering secrets held from the day. Bugs relentlessly chirped their shrill screech and wood creaked, the soft patter of hollow drums from the Ewok village beat far away.

Yet, for all this commotion, there resided an innate peace to the forest. It was a place of contradictions.

The soft crunch of footsteps threw a rope around Zeb’s thoughts and lassoed him back down into his body. He scanned the source ahead. 

The darkened silhouette of Kallus appeared into view over the brush. Zeb half-anticipated for him to have been an illusion, for Kallus to spontaneously dissipate like in the dreams before. But he didn’t. No, Kallus took another step into the starlight, as tangible and solid as the forest around them.

He froze, noticing Zeb.

“Hi,” Kallus whispered, barely audible over the chorus of the cicadas. The first word spoken in five months between the two hung in the air like a victory over silence. "I wasn't anticipating you to be up at this hour."

“Couldn’t sleep,” Zeb muttered, his deep voice gruff and rich in tiredness. One of his ears fell flat, self-conscious about sounding so sheepish. He cleared his throat. "I was havin' strange dreams."

“Yeah. Me too."

Zeb couldn't help but notice that, despite his visible fatigue, Kallus still appeared perfect as always; chiseled jawline, strong arms, and untamed hair that fell over his amber iridescent eyes. "Listen," Zeb began. "I’m sorry for earlier today. You were tryin' to approach me, an', it jus' caught me off guard.”

“It’s okay.” Kallus smiled vaguely.

Zeb kept up the small talk. "How've you been holdin’ up?” 

“Fine.” Already, a thickness of hidden truths divided the two again. Kallus chewed on his cheek. “Actually, I’m lousy,” he admitted, breaking through that chain, and finally meeting Zeb's gaze to nod in verification.

"I'd consider lousy an understatement. For both of us."

Kallus smiled again. "An accurate assertion. The Rebellion gains a victory, and yet, we seem as if we're the ones who had lost. What sort of a pair are we?"

Zeb chuckled. He peered into Kallus' eyes. Ashla, he knew those eyes too well.

They told a story of fear, uncertainty, regret, valor, loneliness. The same eyes Zeb had read into so many times before, multiplied exponentially within the scared Imperial lying in the snow of Bahryn, and the brave Rebel comforted by Zeb after being tortured by Thrawn and the attack on Attolon.

"Do you wanna talk for a bit?" Zeb offered.

Kallus nodded and approached closer as Zeb sat down onto the _Ghost’s_ ramp with a cumbersome thud. Kallus followed suit, wincing and grabbing his knee. His attention was fixated on the durasteel below his boots. “Hera and Jacen, how are they?” he asked.

“Good. Real good. Heh, Jacen keeps tryn' to wrestle me, the little kit,” he chuckled. “He’ll make a keen warrior some day.”

“That he will.”

Kallus seemed tentative. Zeb was struck by the sudden quietness of the night again.

The moment of opportunity was again gone, it had passed. Because of that barrier, this space that would forever persist between them from unspoken words lingering in limbo forever. This constant rhythm of holding back, reaching forward, and then pulling back again.

Finally, Kallus cleared his throat. “Zeb?” he asked, his voice faltering. 

“Yeah?”

Kallus brought a hand up so that his thumb rested under his chin and his fist covered his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “For everything. I-” his voice broke, and he bowed his head down low, straining to suppress reckless tears. He failed, shoulders trembling. “I’m sorry."

A hollow pit opened up within Zeb’s stomach, and part of himself wished he could rip out his own heart and cast it away into the universe for being so cruel. He shuffled his knees closer, and lightly, gingerly, wrapped his arms around Kallus.

The blond man crashed his head into the node between muscular pectoral and shoulder, breathing in deeply and out in stutters. Zeb's chest rumbled instinctively. “I know,” Zeb whispered. “You don’t have to explain.” 

“But we need to. We need to express these things, Garazeb," Kallus said, muffled. "Or we’ll never be able to move past them.”

“Okay," he agreed. "Okay, I'm sorry that I never understood." 

The two men held onto one another in silence. Zeb could feel Kallus' heart beating softly in tandem to his own, together.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours.

He compelled himself to say more, to confess everything that he was dying to say, but a thousand words rushed to his hasty tongue all at once so that none came out. The quiet brought a debilitating ringing to Zeb's ears, his head swimming, hot with fears and frustrations, insecurities and uncertainties, until the loud and bombastic noise within thickened into a chaotic cacophony.

Zeb's lip's trembled. He welled, tears snaking thickly down his face and catching onto the long hair of his beard.

"I wished you could see yourself through my eyes," he finally confessed. "I wished that you were kinder to yourself than the galaxy was to you. Because jus' the thought of you bein' in pain makes me want to tear the stars from the sky.” 

Kallus tightened his grip. "I'm not sure I ever can," he admitted.

"I know. An' I don't expect you to either."

Kallus pulled himself away, his eyelids lined red, tired, yet calm. He reached out to pet Zeb’s ear lovingly. “Not a minute goes by where you don’t cross my mind, Zeb. I think I'll always be in some sort of love with you.”

“I think I will too,” he replied.

Impulsively, Kallus leaned in, and Zeb did the same. They paused, trembling lips so close they could feel each other's breath, gazing at one another, searching for an answer.

They didn't wait for one. Zeb's heart fluttered as their mouths collided in that perfect natural fit. They kissed, longingly, re-exploring every inch that they had once known so well, making up for all of that lost time.

Eventually, Zeb withdrew to catch his breath, apprehensive, and slightly ashamed for his recklessness. He pressed Kallus' forehead against his.

"What are we going to do about this, Kal?”

“We just try," Kallus answered, echoing Zeb's words from Yavin 4 so long ago. "That’s all we can do. Perhaps this time, it might work. But it won't be perfect, we’ll both carry our burdens forever."

"I think I'm okay with not perfect." 

The two men smiled, plagued by uncertainty, yet so full of love. Zeb broke into an exasperated, cathartic chuckle. Kallus matched, only for a fleeting moment before he sobered and brought his hand up to cup soft lilac jaws. 

“Would you have wanted for any of it to have been different?” Zeb whispered.

“No. No, I wouldn’t. Because the moments that were good were worth everything in-between."

And a small recess of Zeb's heart told him that maybe, just maybe, they would figure it out. Perhaps he would be more or less certain tomorrow, or the day after that, but there was a chance now, and that was all he needed to know.

That somehow, this persistent, stubborn honor would endure, battling against the relentless force of a galaxy forever attempting to pull them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had just sorta started off as an idea floating around in my head, but has since crescendoed into an actual story that I think feels undeniably “me", and was quite compelling to write!  
> Super big thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos, and commented, it means so much to me and kept me writing. Words can't describe how grateful I am!!


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